Guilt
by Ros3bud009
Summary: Russia worries about his older sister whiles Belarus insist they just trust Ukraine. Argument ensues. No real pairings.


"Where are you going, brother?"

Russia stills, glancing over at his younger sister; he tugs at his sweater that has bunched up in his jacket sleeve when he pulled the garment on. "Out," is his simple answer; he hopes that it is good enough as he does not have time to waste. Enough time has passed without the man being aware that he had a duty to perform.

But, of course, it is simply not enough. Belarus tilts her head at him and asks, "Out where?"

"I should be home in time for dinner, so do not worry, alright?"

"_Where_?" Belarus repeats. She does not move – even her face barely shifts other than her lips and tongue – and yet something has most certainly shifted between them. "I want to know why brother is leaving. Is that so much to ask?"

Russia swallows down the guilt. "Ah, but, it isn't important-"

"It is about our sister's lover, yes?"

The air shifts again, stagnates, and shivers from the chill.

"I'm leaving now."

"No," Belarus replies, gracefully unfurling her legs and placing her feet on the floor. Still, she stays on the couch; the feet are a warning. "You are going to stay here."

"I am going."

"You are _not_. You are staying here with _me_," Belarus insists just the slightest bit louder. "Sister asked that we not scare him off."

Russia shoves his hands into his pockets like a boy being tattled on. Even so, his expression is stern and unmoved. "I am not planning on scaring him away. I am merely going to talk to him."

"You are going to go and make sure that he is afraid that should he make one wrong move, there will be hell to pay." Belarus does not put words in her brother's mouth – they both know she just finds them, despite Russia's efforts to conceal them. A stalemate as the truth is laid bare.

Russia pulls his hands out of his pocket to pull on some gloves. "I'm going. I have to make sure that sister is safe-"

Swift and quiet, Belarus is on her feet and making her way over. "She's safe, brother. She is able to take care of herself."

A few steps back to keep the distance between them; "I know, but I want to make sure for myself."

"She asked you not to."

"And I will still do it anyway!" Frustrations spill over; the air twists and coils, ready to burst.

"I will not let you!" Belarus steps between Russia and the front door. Her frame is petite next to his, her face pretty and her voice girlish, but her presence and exclamation are no less intimidating. "Sister asked that we trust that she knows her lover, that we let them be, and that we be nice to him. I will not let you go against her request."

Russia moves up close, staring down – glaring down really – at the girl, the woman, his _sister_, that stood between him and the man who dares to tempt his older sister away. When he speaks, it is a warning growl. "Belarus. I insist that you _move_."

Belarus does not even blink. "She's not going to leave us."

He shivers and wonders if there is anything the woman does not see.

"I did not say she would."

"But you're afraid of it." Belarus states it as the fact it is. "You are afraid that he will steal her away-"

"No, this is about protecting her from harm-"

"You can only protect her if she has no one but you!" Belarus interrupts, the words bursting out with emotion that Russia did not see. "You don't want to lose our older sister to some man – you don't want to lose even an ounce of her love, and you think that he will steal it away. I know, brother. I know."

_I know_, speak her eyes. There is no deception.

Russia reaches for the doorknob.

Belarus smacks it away.

"Belarus!"

"_Russia_," she hisses darkly. Belarus' body does not move – not even an inch – but still, it feels as if Russia has been caught in a furious storm. "If I had to learn to let you love others, then you will have to sit back and watch sister love others too. You will stay here, you will worry, you will fear, but she will come back as she always has."

If Russia tries to speak up, it is lost before it can ever reach his lips. The girl before him – the younger sister who hid passion behind a cool exterior – is one he rarely saw. Her eyes burn, her cheeks flush, her brows furrow, and her whole body trembles slightly from some emotion shoved deep down that is bubbling to the surface.

Belarus presses her hands to Russia's chest and shoves him back – he does not fight and instead takes some steps back away from the door.

"You are staying."

A standstill.

Holding of breath.

Russia undoes his jacket and slips it off his shoulders. He is still burning with indignation – how dare anyone tell him what he could and could not do, even if she is his own sister, _especially _because she is his sister and understands him – but he knows that there is something darker that burns in Belarus' eyes.

There are years of pent up anger there that Russia dare not set off; years of frustration and fear and pain that he caused her.

Emotions he felt guilty about making her feel; that she hid under layers of cold disinterest for his sake.

"I will stay then."

Belarus considers him carefully before she moves. Her hair whips behind her as she does not return to her seat, but instead heads up the stairs.

Still, fears and worries squirm low in Russia's gut. "Wait! Sister?"

Belarus stops on the stairs, waiting.

"How are you not worried that our sister will leave?"

She only turns enough to look over her shoulder at Russia. Her look is laced with sorrow.

"I love you so much, brother. But I also know that you will leave me long before our sister would even consider it."

There is no room for argument as Belarus looks away, breathes, and continues up the stairs. Russia is not sure he could argue even if given the chance.

It is hard to argue when he starts to fear that it is the truth.

It does not matter that that is how life works; that he cannot be with his sisters all the time when he has so many allies and enemies and meetings and friends and the occasional lover.

Guilt consumes him.


End file.
